


While she was gone

by ryandarke



Category: Queen of the South (TV)
Genre: A bit of delving on the Kim angle, F/M, Not especially original, Post 3x09 to just post 3x10, fluff and smut and angst, in that order, just a desperate bit of Jeresa action in the S4 wilderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-23 09:42:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20006230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryandarke/pseuds/ryandarke
Summary: Giving them some time and fun post 3x09, plus the Phoenix-based perspective for 3x10





	1. Chapter 1

Teresa stirred out of sleep, unaware of what had disturbed her. It was still dark and it was silent but then it happened again. James’ body flicked and his legs jolted. Teresa raised herself up on her elbow to check on him. His back was toward her but she could see that he was fast asleep. He jolted again and started talking – nothing intelligible but it was becoming noticeably distressed. She’d slept next to him a number of times now and had only ever witnessed him being a very placid sleeper but clearly he was dreaming now and it wasn’t good. His distress saddened her and though she was loath to wake him, she couldn’t watch him suffer like this, even if it was just a dream. 

Carefully, she put her hand on his hip and smoothed it up his waist and back, trying to stir him gently awake, rather than startle him out of the dream.

‘James’, she whispered, rocking him a touch, trying to wake him as he called out again.

He didn’t wake. He sighed and quietened, as she slowly rubbed his side. His breathing evened out, his body relaxed and whatever storm that was threatening slipped harmlessly away. Teresa waited a few moments, checking that all was quiet, touched her lips to his bare shoulder in the lightest kiss and carefully lay back down and returned peacefully to her own sleep. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Teresa stirred again from sleep, but this time, sunlight filled the room. A cover had been pulled up over her shoulders and a mug of tea, steam still rising, sat on the nightstand next to her. A warm smile spread through her at the thought of being cared for in these small, loud ways. She sat up far enough to be able to take a sip of tea, then another, then turned to see where he was. No sign of him, though he can’t have been long gone. She acknowledged the slight disappointment that bit when he wasn’t still there, and wanted to see him enough for her to get straight out of bed. Pulling on her bathrobe, feet bare, she padded downstairs with her mug of tea. He was in the kitchen, showered and dressed, looking up at the sound of bare feet. 

‘Hey.’

She smiled at him and came up behind him, placing her mug on the counter and her arms circled his waist and she snuggled tight up against his back. James slipped his hands up her arms, inside her sleeves. 

‘Morning.’ 

‘Come here,’ he said, turning round in the circle of her arms, so that he could hold her, swaying gently with her now in his arms, before looking down at her smile and gently kissing her good morning. Each new morning with her was still precious to him, still to be committed to memory, still not to be taken for granted – don’t ever take it for granted, given this life we’re in. Teresa thought about asking him about his dream… but it just didn’t feel right and she couldn’t work out why. Was it intrusive? Would it make him feel awkward or vulnerable? What if it was something he didn’t want to share or to remember? And she decided just to keep it as her own precious secret, very tenderly moved that somehow, her touch had seemed to be enough to reach through his subconscious and soothe away whatever it was that was troubling him. 

‘Why are you up so early?’ she asked.

‘I’ve got things to do.’

‘Nothing that can’t wait,’ murmured Teresa suggestively, looking up at him. 

‘I’ve got a very demanding boss. Don’t think she’d understand.’

‘Screw the boss, come back to bed.’

James raised his eyebrows and smirked at the unintended double-entendre. ‘Later, I promise, but I think the boss has forgotten she’s got a flying lesson in about half an hour…’

‘Mierda,’ exclaimed Teresa, having clean forgotten, and she broke away to dash upstairs. She got a couple of steps away before she stopped, dashed back for her half-drunk mug of tea, turned and moved away, turned back around and dashed back to steal a slightly lingering kiss from James and dashed back upstairs to get ready. James watched, grinned at the comedy of the scene just played out, and fell a little bit further in love with her. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

James’ morning disappeared in a miscellany of jobs that needed doing to keep their businesses running, especially with Kelly Anne proving to be somewhat erratic at the moment. She’d gone AWOL again; she’d turn up again soon, he had no doubt but it was becoming a concern. Concern for Kelly Anne and for the winery. But James pushed that to one side; nothing was going to spoil his good mood. He felt happier than he had in he didn’t know how long. Happier than he deserved to be. The businesses were settling in, as were things with Teresa. He didn’t dare call it a relationship yet, didn’t want to jinx it, but they spent free time together easily and it was almost a given that they’d spend the night in Teresa’s bed. They were carefully neutral with each other around other people, particularly Pote. He knew Pote knew – that had come up in conversation in the early hours of the morning after they’d ‘disbanded’ La Comision:

They’d been lying in Teresa’s bed, James on his back with Teresa tucked into his side, his right arm around her, absentmindedly stroking her arm with his thumb. Hastily discarded clothing formed a trail across the bedroom, T shirts flung at opposite sides of the bed. They’d dozed and recovered from heady celebration sex, and it was still only just past midnight. The night was still young. 

‘I feel ever so slightly guilty,’ murmured James.

‘What about?’

‘Pote. We abandoned him.’

‘He’ll survive,’ smiled Teresa.

‘It looks a bit suspicious though. D’you think he’ll guess?’

‘He knows.’ 

‘What? How does he know?’

‘He overheard us talking in the bathroom just before Li’l T and Tonto.’ 

James took a moment to consider that. ‘So did he say something to you?’

‘He asked me if there was something going on between us.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I didn’t say anything.’

‘So…. Is he….. okay with it? Not that he gets to approve it but…’ 

Teresa smiled at James’ obvious discomfort with this information. ‘He’s just aware of the risks.’

James paused and tried to get his head around the whole idea of Pote knowing. It wasn’t as if they were going to be able to keep it secret permanently. He guessed it was better that it was out in the open. No need to sneak around. But the risks that Pote was aware of? James pondered what that meant. The mixing of personal stuff into business matters? 

‘Less risky than being with someone outside the business,’ he countered, sounding slightly more defensively than he wanted to. 

Now Teresa paused. ‘Maybe... You thinking of Kim?’

‘Yeah, I guess, but I kind of guess that you were on the outside of Guero’s business too.’

‘True. Maybe it’s worse to know something but not understand everything. Your mind paints the worst pictures all the time. How much did Kim know?’ asked Teresa.

‘She knew the bare outline of it really. I met her at Camila’s club so she had a vague idea, did a few lines if she was out. After a certain point, I figured it wasn’t fair to her to not be straight about what I did. She needed to know so that when things would start heating up, I could keep her out of harm. If she'd known nothing, I couldn’t have protected her like that, and I couldn’t be with her if I couldn’t keep her safe.’

‘Did she understand that?’ Teresa found herself strangely curious.

‘She understood it but she found it hard. Too hard, in the end. At least with people in the business, you both know exactly what you’re getting into.’ 

Teresa knew there was a lot of truth in what he was saying. She knew what Guero was involved in, without really knowing the gritty reality of the business. And she remembered being in Kim’s position, remembered talking about it with Brenda, the waiting and wondering if Guero would make it home, wondering whether that cellphone in the drawer would ever ring. James had a point – she and James both knew the realities of the life they led. 

‘D’you think it’s possible to be with someone who knows nothing? At least then, they don’t know to worry about you.’

‘I know some guys who did it that way. They had to live a double life. I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t keep track of the lies you’d have to tell, apart from anything else. Couldn’t live with not being able to talk at all about any of the heavy shit that goes down in what we do. Never trusted those guys that much in business either. If you can lie that well….’

Teresa pondered what he’d said. It clicked that they’d been talking about each other’s former lover, even if obliquely; should that have been awkward? she wondered. It didn’t seem to be, in a way that seemed to show acceptance of each other’s past with a gently growing confidence in what was happening between them. Warmed by that realization and deciding that the conversation had taken way too somber a turn for tonight, she raised herself up and looked down at James for a second or two, kissed him once, twice, and third time over, they launched back in for Round 2. 

The warm memories of that night brought a smile to James’ face as he headed towards the winery, sun shining, road clear, music on. Yeah, there’d been a certain rhythm to everyday life in the last few weeks that felt good. It wouldn’t last forever, he knew, but even the greatest threat to them had receded somewhat since he’d learnt that Camila was on the run from Sinaloa, publicly accused of murder by her own daughter, and with much bigger issues of survival to concentrate on, rather than on her all-consuming need for revenge on Teresa. While calm in the business and domestic bliss lasted, James was enjoying it.

The music cut out as a phone call came in. The caller’s ID appeared on the dashboard screen and James smiled. 

‘Hey. How was the flying?’

‘Good, thanks. Are you alone?’

‘Yeah. What’s up?’

‘Where are you?’ she responded, ignoring his question.

James couldn’t decide if her response was a little clipped, too straight-down-to-business. ‘In the car, on my way to the winery. Why?’

‘Listen, I’ve been thinking…’ There was an elongated pause. He wasn’t entirely sure he liked where this was going, particularly with the slightly lowered, serious tone of her voice.

‘Thinking what?’ he prompted her.

Another pause, looking for the courage to say what she wanted to say. Finally it came; ‘I’ve been thinking that, actually, we haven’t made love in your room yet….’

Her response caught James completely off-guard; almost simultaneously, he felt surprise and relief, felt his breath catch in his throat as her audacity sent a wave of arousal right through his body. He swallowed and breathed out and she heard it. 

‘How close to the house are you?’ she continued.

‘About 15 minutes. Is anyone else in?’ he said quietly, trying to control both his voice and his speed.

‘Pote’s going to be out for a couple of hours yet. No-one else is around. Hurry up,’ she said and hung up.

Eleven minutes later, Teresa heard the car pull up. James stalked into the house, into the kitchen, where Teresa was stood leaning against the counter. He watched her as he pulled out a seat and sat down, then he slowly leaned down, untied his laces and pushed his boots off. He flicked his gaze back up to her. Teresa understood the purpose and promise behind his action and slipped her sneakers off in return. She knew her breath was beginning to shorten, as he looked at her intently, making her wait just a little bit longer. She glanced down at his crotch, saw the effect her phone call had had, and her mouth reflexively fell open. Without taking his eyes off her, James stood up, walked over to her and took hold of her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. 

‘Come with me,’ he said darkly and led the way upstairs. The usually innocuous and sweet action of his thumb rubbing over hers felt like a deeply suggestive action in this heightened state and it sent electricity fizzing through her. Her free hand approvingly smoothed over his ass - so damn fine in those jeans - as they approached his room, where he seamlessly opened the door and pulled her in front of him so that she entered just ahead of him. He kicked the door shut and pushed her firmly back up against it, his body covering hers and their mouths instinctively finding each other in an instant. Tongues pushed deep and ravenously into each other as the erotic tension created by prolonged anticipation was finally allowed free rein. Teresa felt James’ arm snake around her waist and pull her even tighter up against him, sensuously aware of his hard cock pressing against her abdomen. Now wasn't the time for sensuous seduction. She pulled her hands away from his back and went in search of his belt. Fumbling with it in the intensity of their kissing, they broke off, both breathing heavily and looking at the other as they momentarily concentrated on the crucial act of undoing each other’s belts. Pants undone, hands slipped inside each other’s underwear. They stroked each other gently, watching each other for a moment, before James brought Teresa’s face up to look at him, both their breathing short, both flushed, both their T-shirts still on, something quite heady in the message of not even wasting that time on a distraction from their main interest. 

‘There’s something you have to understand,’ he said.

‘What?’

‘You said we hadn’t made love in my room.’

Teresa could only nod, feeling herself melting under the gentle but insistent stroking of his fingers. 

‘This isn’t gonna be making love. This is fucking.’

Teresa nodded again, tightening her hold on his cock just a touch, seeing his eyes close, his head tilt back, and his free hand reach out above her to steady himself against the wall. 

Waiting for his eyes to open and come back to her, she whispered, ‘Then let’s fuck now and make love after.’


	2. Chapter 2

James lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, sleep eluding him. The day had gone so well. Twelve hours or so ago, he’d been lying in exactly the same place, with Teresa next him, both of them thoroughly sated. The evening was the stuff of nightmares. Except you wake up from nightmares; you escape from nightmares. James knew he wasn’t escaping from this any time soon. Teresa had gone to find Kelly Anne, only to be found herself by a little angel, with an ominous summons from El Santo, and Teresa had left for Bolivia, alone as instructed. He’d taken her to the airfield, feeling something close to agony at leaving her there, to start the journey into who the hell knew what. So James found himself in a new position; Kim’s almost-last words came back to him:

‘I lie in this bed every night with my heart racing, wondering if you’re going to come home or if I’m going to hear that somebody blew your head off.’

For the first time, James felt what Kim had felt and realised how hard it is to bear, knowing the person you love is in danger and being absolutely powerless to do anything about it except wait. Yet it was even worse for him than Kim, he told himself, as if that mattered or provided any consolation. He knew a lot more than he wanted to know about where Teresa had gone and who she was meeting there. The fact that they had no idea what was behind the summons made it all the more menacing. He had no idea how long she’d be gone, how many days he’d have to get through before he knew she was safe. He couldn’t even contemplate the idea that she might not make it back, though that was a distinct possibility, and he pushed the thought away whenever it loomed. And he was only at the very start of this undetermined wait; Teresa wasn’t even in Bolivia yet. How the fuck was he going to get through this? 

She’ll be fine.

She could die down there and I might never know what happened. Just vanished.

Look how long she’s kept herself alive. She knows how to connect with people and that’s saved her ass plenty of times – even with that whackjob she’s gone to see.

I’ve seen what he does to people who get on the wrong side of him.

But he likes her. And we’ve always paid what we should when we should. He’s got no reason to harm her.

So why has he sent for her?

Make some more calls in the morning. Try and find out if anyone else knows anything.

What makes you think you want to know more???

He turned over, as if trying to turn his back on the train of thoughts. Like that would work. He caught Teresa’s scent on the pillow, transported immediately back to their afternoon together. She’d wanted to make love in his room. He almost wished they hadn’t now. It would have been easier if he could have lain here, now, with no association with her being there. He couldn’t miss her, wouldn’t think about her, if they’d only ever slept in her bed, never in his. Like that would make any difference? Like you’d rather this afternoon hadn’t happened? Get fucking real. Sometime in the small hours of the morning, physical and mental tiredness caught up with him and he fell mercifully into some subconscious state – but calling it sleep made it sound a damn-sight more restful than anything he got.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He still woke up just after 7. Going into the kitchen, he found Pote already up, nursing a mug. The two of them looked at each other.

‘You look as bad as I feel,’ growled Pote. ‘Coffee’s over there.’

‘Yeah. Guess you didn’t sleep much either,’ he said, wandering over to fill a mug.

‘She’ll be fine,’ said Pote, sounding more optimistic than he felt.

‘Yeah, I know.’ If wishing made it so. ‘Look, I’ve got shit I can be getting on with at the winery, so I’m going to head over there shortly. Get on with something.’

‘I’m thinking the same – keep busy.’

It was another upside to spending the afternoon with Teresa that there were things left over to do, that would have been done yesterday. Pote had also arrived later in the morning with Kelly Anne, as they all used diversion tactics to pass the time. Somehow, the time did pass and it was gone 5 when Kelly Anne stepped outside with 2 beers in her hand. She handed one to James and sat down on the step next to him in the sunshine.

‘I didn’t know you smoked,’ she said.

‘I don’t usually.’ Kelly Anne read between the lines.

They sat in comfortable enough silence, looking out over the vines.

‘You alright in there?’ asked James, gesturing over his shoulder to the winery, finding some neutral way to open the conversation.

‘Sure. We got a corporate booking in there this evening, there’ll be arriving in an hour or so, but we’re ready. Bunch of smart businessmen whooping about noses and palates, thinking they’re all it, when they don’t know shit,’ she smiled. ‘But hey, it’s business and if we can educate them a little bit, well, maybe I’ve done my bit for polite society.’

James raised a small smile at that. This was the side of Kelly Anne he liked, the real Kelly Anne, talking straight, stripped of the ditzy veneer.

‘Where d’you learn so much about wine anyway?’ he asked.

‘Had to do something with my time when I was married to Cole. Started off as something else I could do to look the part of the perfect wife, turned out I’ve got a good palate for it. It just grew from there really. Started a wine club. It looked like a loada ladies getting wasted but I was actually learning something. Turned out quite useful after all.’

‘You didn’t work then?’

‘In the beginning. For the first few years we were married, I was still working. Originally he liked it – young, smart wife ‘n all that. But as he climbed higher, made partner, he decided it didn’t fit with what he wanted and how he wanted to look. Wanted someone to come home to, someone to do client entertaining at night. That was never going to fit with what I was doing. So…’

‘What were you doing?’ asked James, surprised to find himself intrigued by the conversation.

‘I was a lawyer too. Specialized in oil and gas, plenty of work in that field in Dallas. Sounds dull, I know, but I loved it. Was starting to make a name for myself too, I don’t mind telling you.’ She turned to look at him. ‘Surprised?’

‘Yeah, kinda, I guess.’

‘You think li’l empty-headed girls like me don’t do that kinda thing?’

‘It’s not that. I lived with a girl who worked in engineering. She was smart as hell, and tough enough to stand up for herself in a male dominated profession. But plenty of people didn’t think so to look at her. Guess that high powered attorney is just not the way I’ve seen you present yourself. Why d’you give it all up?’

‘Didn’t see it as giving it up. I let myself be persuaded it would help us become something in Dallas. Thought we’d be a big power couple together and somewhere in there, I’d do some other kinda work. Charity trustee, something political maybe. I was thinking too that maybe in the not too distant future we might have kids, so I let him persuade me that I was happy to go along with the whole big plan of it all. And I guess I was in love with him enough to go along with it,’ she sighed wistfully and took a mouthful of her beer. She looked at him. ‘I know what you’re thinking. Sounds crazy to me too, now.’

‘No it doesn’t. What happened to the kids?’

‘Turned out we couldn’t have them. Well, I say we. Turned out Cole couldn’t have them. Funny thing was, the older I got, and the more housewifey I got, the less I wanted ‘em. You’d have thought at least they’d give me something to do with my time. But the more I saw of other people’s kids, the more glad I was that Cole was firing blanks. I’m not sure either one of us was too bothered in the end. And as it’s all turned out, I think we can safely say it was for the best. Can you imagine this situation with a couple of kiddies in tow? Jeez…’ her voice tailed off.

‘Anyways, that’s my bit of oversharing – your turn. What happened to your engineer girl?’

James straightened up, debating how much to say. Never inclined to talk much about his past anyway, he was always even more careful about Kim. He didn’t want anyone to be able to make any connection to her, however distant a possibility that seemed to be. He’d probably already said more than he’d intended – it said something about how Kelly Anne could draw you in.

‘She left.’

‘Left her job or left you?’

‘Me. I like to think it was my job she left rather than me, but who knows.’

‘Sensible girl.’

James considered the implied criticism. ‘She knew what I did,’ he shrugged. ‘In theory, anyway. In practice, it got too much for her.’

‘Kinda know how she feels, darlin’!’ she said. 

James smiled, gently amused and warming to Kelly Anne again. Despite her erraticism, he couldn’t help but like her on a personal level. And she certainly knew how to handle the legitimate business. He’d heard her dealing with suppliers who were trying to jerk her around. She was no pushover, had a way of getting what she wanted and it figured, given what he now knew about her previous life. And setting that previous life alongside the shit she’d found herself in, James found himself feeling a good deal more sympathetic to her, and to how she was dealing – or not dealing – with it at the moment. It didn’t escape him that there was something blackly ironic about wanting to help a woman struggling with a cocaine addiction. But that was something to think about once Teresa was back.

Teresa. He was grateful for the short respite from dwelling on that situation that Kelly Anne had just given him but any extension of that respite was interrupted as Pote trundled through the door.

‘That’s where you two are. Hey, gabacha. You got guests arriving,’ he growled. ‘And you,’ he said, looking at James, ‘I’m going back to the house to cook something to eat. There’s a game on the TV tonight.’

‘When have we ever watched a game on the TV?’ queried James.

‘You got a better idea about how to pass the time, cabron?’ 

James glanced at Kelly Anne and smiled. She rolled her eyes at him, clinked her half-drunk bottle of beer against his.

‘They’re early but I’d better go make our customers feel welcome. Nice talking to you.’

He nodded. ‘You too. Thanks for the beer. Come by the house after you’re done here?’ suggested James. It would serve a multitude of purposes; it deferred to Teresa’s preference to keep Kelly Anne close; it was the friendly thing to do and it might provide amusement, if his growing sense that something was brewing between Kelly Anne and Pote was right.

‘I’ll keep you some food,’ Pote offered. There may well be good sport on offer tonight, mused James, and not just on the TV…

‘Well thank you boys; I will take you up on that very kind offer,’ she grinned, putting the ditzy hostess persona back on and tottering inside.

Pote beamed after her, forgetting to remove his smile before he turned back to James. James just looked at him.

‘What???’

‘Nothing.’

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A second night of disturbed sleep came and went, though a spectacular thunderstorm provided some distraction in the early hours of the morning. James came downstairs to find Kelly Anne, swaddled in a blanket, and Pote watching the lightning. One particularly ear-splitting rumble of thunder provoked a squeal from Kelly Anne, who pulled the blanket over her ears and scuttled for protection from Pote.

‘I hate thunder and lightning. Ever since I was a little girl.’ she hissed. ‘I’m so glad I came here tonight.’

James looked at Pote. Pote steadfastly refused to look at James.

When the storm had finally passed away into the distance, they returned to their beds. After his conversation with Kelly Anne earlier, and still wide awake, James found himself once again thinking about Kim. Or her departure at least. It had been a huge relief when she had eventually turned up at the trailer, the night he’d killed Birdman. He’d been close to going out to find her, when she pulled up outside the trailer. Any hopes he’d had of ‘talking about it’ were quickly evaporated by the glowering anger that radiated from her as she stepped inside. They sat face on, her look saying ‘don’t say anything. I’m here, but I resent the hell out of you for this’. He feared they’d reached the point of no return. In the end, she’d moved to the bed, pulled the blanket over herself, and turned her back to him.

‘Can I join you?’ he’d asked tentatively, knowing he had a nerve asking.

‘Don’t you dare, James. Don’t you dare.’

Camila had given him the all-clear the next morning and they’d left the trailer at the same time, saying nothing. Surprise, relief and gratitude washed over him when he returned home, spotting her Mercedes soft top parked outside. Rounding the top of the stairs, his eye immediately hit on the pile of keys and car fobs, which weighted down a letter on the edge of the dining table. Not that he needed the confirmation, but he first headed upstairs to check their bedroom. The essentials were gone. The vast majority of the wardrobe he’d lavished on her – largely out of guilt - remained. A hopeful sign, maybe she was only temporarily gone, just cooling off for a bit. Then he remembered the keys sitting downstairs and knew better.

 _James,_

_As much as I love you, I have to go. You always told me the only way out was to move up. But I can’t live like this, waiting to see if you make it to the exit alive, when I know that ‘a way out’ is an illusion anyway. In my heart, I know how it will end and loving you as much as I do, I can’t live just waiting for that day. You deserve so much more than the darkness of the life you lead and its inevitable consequences. Truly, I hope you do find a way out, and wish you life, love and happiness, free of the burden of dread and fear that this existence puts on you and the people who love you. I’ve never doubted that you love me too – nothing to do with what you bought me, everything to do with how you made me feel and that you did everything you could to keep me safe. The safest thing you can do for me now is to let me go my way, with our story now done, but our love and respect for each other intact._

_With love, and take care,_

_Kim_

Knowing it’s coming, understanding why, doesn’t make it less painful. The searing truth in her words added to the ache he felt. He made to push it away, to turn around and walk out the door, and blithely get on with ‘that life’, stripped of the need to worry about her. But something inside him made himself stay a while; gave him permission to feel the sadness, though whether that was because he felt he deserved to feel the pain, or whether it was in the hope of reassuring himself that he wasn’t totally dehumanised and devoid of emotional capacity, he couldn’t decide. He even gave himself the luxury of ignoring a call from Camila. For once, she could wait a short while for him. Events soon swept him along in a wave that left little time to dwell on feelings and the prospect of an indeterminate stay in a luxury safehouse made him relieved, for both of them, that Kim had made the choice she had.

So yes, here he was in Kim’s position, not knowing what the outcome of Teresa’s absence would be. He’d seen even more darkness in this life than he’d known before – Suzie, El Santo – and he was beginning to toy with the dream of a way out from it all some day, whilst fearing that Kim was right about the delusion of an exit other than the inevitable one.

Pote came downstairs the next morning to find the TV on, an empty Bourbon glass on the table, James asleep on the couch, and he understood completely.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somehow, James and Pote muddled through a second day without word from Teresa. And even the night-time, which they both dreaded more than the days, was less of a trial, as sheer physical exhaustion kicked in. They trundled through a third morning when shortly before lunchtime, Pote suggested the aimless frivolity of bottle shooting. James was happy to play along. Over the last few days, it was easiest being with Pote. Neither needed to say anything but both knew the other was going through the same thing, and it was adding to the relationship that continued to develop between them, outside of the common bond of their commitment to Teresa.

‘Do you feel any pain in your hand?’

‘Nada. Not since Mexico. I’m ready to go if we got to. You thinking what I’m thinking?’

‘We shouldn’t have let her go alone.’

‘You think you could have stopped her?!! When Teresa gets something in her head, it would be easier to stop a freakin’ bullet than her!’

Pote had wandered into the house to get another couple of beers. He made it inside, into the kitchen before letting out a hushed stream of expletives. Mind whirring, so happy to hear from Teresa but entangled in that was the significant issue of potential lost supply, the presence of a rat in their midst, and most immediately problematic, the possibility that he was busy sharing beers with the rat. Was it really possible that it was James? The guy seemed so genuine about Teresa. He couldn’t have kept up so good an act for so long, could he, particularly the way the last 3 days had gone? Has he been playing me all this time? Worse than that – playing Teresa in the worst possible way? Pote didn’t know what to think but until he did, he knew he had to keep the knowledge to himself. And he knew he wasn’t a good enough actor to continue shooting bottles, drinking beer and acting like everything was fine.

He headed back out to the yard, empty-handed.

‘Kelly Anne just called. Wants a hand at the winery. Beer’s going to have to wait.’

‘Sure thing. I’ll head over and join you in a bit.’

A couple of hours later, James’ phone rang, interrupting a thought process weighing up the tipping point of when he and Pote would stop sitting around waiting, and get on a plane and start doing something.

‘Yeah?’

‘It’s me…’

‘Teresa! Fuck…’ He found himself temporarily unable to speak, such was the relief of hearing her voice, but turned around to head towards Pote, to put him out of the agonised waiting as soon as possible. ‘You alright?’

‘I’m fine. Look, I’m just sorting out a flight back, but I should be able to make it back tonight. Everything OK there?’

‘Yeah, everything’s fine here. What happened down there?’

‘Things got a bit crazy, but I’m fine. Can we talk about it later, I just want to get this flight sorted and get home? Can you let Pote know I’m ok?’

‘Sure. Let me know what time you’re gonna land, and I’ll pick you up.’

As things turned out, Pote collected Teresa from the airfield. As Pote explained it, Teresa had tried to call James with an arrival time but he’d been down in the cellar at the time, in a signal blackspot. So she’d called him instead and Pote was going to pick her up. James felt the sting of disappointment, told himself not to be so juvenile and that the additional 30 minute wait was irrelevant compared to having her back safe. Pote glanced at the bottles in the yard, still set up from earlier in the day. He glowered inside, mind increasingly hardening around the verdict that James was the traitor in their midst. As Teresa walked into the kitchen, Pote by her side, James flinched a little at the cuts and bruising on her face and the exhaustion around her eyes. But he also knew her well enough not to fuss about it either.

‘Hey. What happened to you?’ he said softly, moving towards her as Pote left.

‘We got hit by Bolivian military. Careful!’ she started, as James made to thread his arm around her waist, desperate to hold her. ‘Watch the ribs…’

‘Sorry. You sure you’re ok?’, settling for the gentlest hand on her arm, as she placed her hand on his chest, and the tenderest kiss by way of a welcome home.

‘Yeah. Just bruised all over. Nothing serious, honestly. Look, I’m so tired – I just need to sleep, if that’s ok?’

‘Course. I’m just glad you’re home safe,’ knowing that that was the understatement of the decade.

‘Me too.’ With Pote returning to the kitchen, she afforded James just a gentle touch on his shoulder and she headed upstairs.

James lay in bed, knowing that sleep wouldn’t be far away. He afforded himself a moment of regret that he wasn’t in bed, holding her and listening to her breathing. But she had looked so exhausted and after next-to 3 days of agonised waiting, the gratitude and happiness that she was back, in the house, more or less unharmed, wiped out any other sentiments. Tomorrow was a new day, so different from the ones he’d just existed through, and that was more than enough to send him to sleep with a sense of contentment and optimism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the practicalities of this are interesting....Bolivia is an 8 hr flight from Phoenix, and 3 hours ahead, so getting there by sunrise is quite a challenge...Conversely, Teresa getting back - organising a private flight etc etc. Dunno. But that's a lot of where the calculations re timescales came from in here... sorry if it's off-putting in any way.

**Author's Note:**

> This one came about due to:  
> a) Rox Gilmore's encouragement and prompting to stretch my brain a little (though I still need the story structure from the TV series, can't get to original, AU stuff yet) so thanks Rox, and  
> b) as I alluded to in the tags, it's a bit of self-help therapy in the S4 Jeresa-free zone... 9 weeks and counting...
> 
> 2nd chapter in the works...


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